


Shattered Glass

by FandomsOnline



Category: Divergent Series - Veronica Roth, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: A Slap On Titan, Dauntless Initiation, Gen, I think that's it - Freeform, Latino Connie, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-06-02 20:51:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6581659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomsOnline/pseuds/FandomsOnline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>hi i wrote this nearly two years ago and it is safe to say i am not finishing it thanks<br/>+<br/>Chicago, the Windy City, the perfect society. A society divided into five factions, with different values and beliefs.<br/>Eren knows he'll be happy in Dauntless.<br/>Mikasa knows she'll follow her brother wherever.<br/>Krista knows she can change the person she is inside.<br/>But in the faction where you're not even guaranteed a life there, how can you possibly know that anything is true?<br/>+</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, first of all, I love writing crossovers.  
> Second of all, I love writing crossovers for amazing books.  
> Third of all, I love Divergent. I think I've read it three times.  
> I also wouldn't mind reading it a fourth.  
> +  
> Divergent is a book by Veronica Roth. The setting was created by her. All the characters were created by Hajime Isayama. I put them in the world and wrote a story. No profit will be made from this fictional work.
> 
> edit (2018): what the frick what the frick what the frick i don't like divergent

Chapter 1

 

There are many mirrors in the house. I sit at the one in the hallway, the one that stretches from floor to ceiling, cross legged and wide eyed. The stray hair falls in a black halo around my back.

They say a mirror shows what you really are. They say mirrors don’t lie. Mirrors are an embodiment of honesty.

That is, until you break one, or curve one.

I suppose people work the same way. You have no reason to be dishonest, until you’re changed, or someone hurts you. At least, that’s what’s drilled into our heads. And in the Candor faction, everything is truth.

Apparently.

We’re taught that no matter how broken you are, you still have to work well as a mirror. Or a person. And that makes me wonder whether everything here really is truth. Is that the point of life – to fulfil your purpose? It seems awfully bland to me. Then again, each faction and every member has a purpose.

That purpose is to belong. And if you belong somewhere, it can’t be that boring. Can it?

Mother makes the last cut before sweeping up the mess.

“So, today is the day,” she says.

“I know,” I reply.

Today is the day of the Aptitude Test, which everyone at school will take. This will help me decide which faction I’m best suited for, which I will choose tomorrow at the Choosing Ceremony. It will show me where I really belong. It’ll show me what I believe in.

“How nervous are you?” she asks.

“Not nervous at all,” I say. Hearing this, my brother Eren butts in to the conversation from nowhere. Oh, Eren; always at the most inconvenient times.

“Come on, Mikasa! You’re lying,” he jabs.

“No, I’m not. It’s just a guideline, right? You still get to choose,” I answer. “I don’t see why you’re so bothered. Got something to hide, Eren?”

“Nothing of the sort,” he says through gritted teeth.

“I beg to differ,” I start slyly. “You of all people should know about our faction’s values: honesty and order.”

“Mikasa, will you stop teasing your brother?” Mother snaps.

“I’m being honest. I thought that’s what you wanted us to be.” I say flatly.

“I also tried to raise you to be personable. I do wonder where I went wrong. You’re nothing like I’d imagined.” She’s brutally honest. That would be uncalled for anywhere else. “If you have something to say, say it. Don’t drag it out at Eren’s expense.”

“Fine. Eren wants to choose Dauntless,” I spit out.

“Mikasa!” he yells.

“Eren!” she scolds, pulling his ear. Her face turns ruby in colour. “I warned you about this! If you join Dauntless, you could end up factionless. Or worse – dead!”

“I’m leaving!” he retorts, slamming the door.

This is one of the many train-wreck occurrences in my family. It’s not that our mother wants us to come back to Candor. She just cares too much, and she doesn’t like the idea of joining Dauntless – they live on impulse, and die young. Well, maybe that’s the case, but it won’t stop me from following Eren. It won’t stop him from following his instincts, either.

Once we’re sure he’s gone, she speaks in a hushed voice. “I’m not happy with what you did. You didn’t need to say it like that. But…Look after him for me, will you?”

-

Luckily, it’s not long before the bus arrives, along with the smoke it brings. The clattering of the engine stops, and the door opens. Outside of the faction, we are exposed to other kinds of people and ways of life. Inside, ideals and values are isolated to those of a Candor mind-set.

Armin, a blonde Erudite boy, sits in the same seat as he does every other day reading. The three of us have an unlikely friendship, you might say. Eren is as outspoken as it gets, claiming that one day he’ll be the one to go outside the Fence.

That ties in with Armin. Being an Erudite, you’d think curiosity would be natural and accepted, but to such an extent it apparently isn’t. The books he reads are extremely dangerous, and I’m unsure how he got his hands on them. The problem – they have information about outside the fence. When he used to talk about them, he acted as if they were his own ideas and not records: that might have meant that they wouldn’t be confiscated. I don’t think it would’ve made a difference, really, since he’d have been picked on either way. At least having a raging Eren around all the time seemed to scare them off.

“Hey Armin,” Eren says. He doesn’t look up. “What are you reading?”

Stupid. “Read it yourself…I’m not saying,” he replies. Of course they’re a secret. “You know I can’t say.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so secretive, people wouldn’t act like they’re a big deal,” Eren blurts out. “So, got any nerves about today?” he asks, changing the subject.

“A lot. I don’t want to leave Erudite, but I don’t want to be separated from my friends, either. I mean, I’m not strong or brave, but I know I’d be unhappy without you guys.”

“You never know,” Eren says, “you might get Dauntless as a result!”

Dauntless: the brave. They protect and enforce law. Maybe everyone who joins is a little crazy, but I think everyone there is willing to overlook that. I can see why Eren strives to join them, and why Armin fears joining them. Dauntless is the only Faction where initiation is not a guarantee of getting in. Still, don’t we all have fears? Aren’t we all weak somehow? I don’t see the big deal. If you’re truly cut out for it, you’ll make it in.

“But that’s only an indication of the way your brain works. It has no relevance as to whether you’d actually do well there.”

“Alright, Armin. I’m just trying to make you feel a little less on edge.”

The next stop is school. As we step off the bus, I pull my white duffle coat around me – it is the windy city after all. Public areas are the only places where factions mix and diversity is everywhere. As members of Candor, we have to wear only black and white, symbolising the line between truth and dishonesty. I’m wearing black trousers and lace up brogues with a white shirt. How I wish I could wear the claret scarf we have at home! But it’s against Candor customs, so it’s not allowed. Eren wears similar clothes, with the colours inverted: a black t-shirt with white jeans, black lace ups and a white jacket. Armin’s clothes contrast ours; he wears all shades of blue – a pale polo shirt, a sky blue vest, navy jeans and black shoes (the only colour in his clothes other than blue). Some might think it odd, but it’s just his faction’s rules.

Erudite is a faction full of geniuses. They work as scientists, teachers and doctors, advancing our technology. According to Armin, the colour blue is calming, which means that someone frequently exposed to blue has a tranquil, focused mind. However, lately their Faction’s ideals have become more…warped. Dishonest. Instead of exploring and learning and using their knowledge as a tool, they’ve been greedy; craving more and more information to use it against others. Well, things like that happen, don’t they? It’ll get back on the right path soon enough.

Our school is extremely diverse, compared to the diversity in each faction, anyway. The crowds are filled with every kind of person possible, every faction, every personality, and every race. We’re not the only school in Chicago, either, even though there aren’t as any as there were before the war. We don’t learn about the war all that much in school, though. What a shame.

-

The bell rings and the aptitude tests begin, each student entering a room where they’ll face a simulation. I think they use one of Dauntless’ serums that simulate some kind of scenario.

Armin is next to go in, but before that happens, he gets slammed into by a great oaf of a boy. And, because our friend is so lucky, his book ends up on the floor. Armin would be there too, had Eren not kicked the boy in the shin. Of course, the book isn’t in the best shape, but at least the contents haven’t been discovered. Yet.

“Bye, Armin,” I say, waving. I doubt we’ll see him again today. Because his results – like anyone else’s – are unpredictable, he will probably spend the rest of the day alone reflecting on the choices he has. We might not see him again until the Choosing Ceremony. It’s not long until it’s my turn to go, and only Eren is left.

“I’m… I’m gonna walk home,” I say. I don’t know why, but I just feel like I’ll be better alone after the test. Something tells me it’s going to be a bad idea to tell Eren my results. Or anyone, for that matter. I certainly don’t want to know his. At all. I mean, he’s my brother, and we share everything – not just because we’re both Candor. This just doesn’t seem right, though. I want just a little privacy. Is that too much to ask?

I suppose that in Candor, it is – not because we aren’t allowed to share results, but because I don’t want to be honest about them.

-

And then I’m overthinking. I’m not fit for Amity; I’m too aggressive. I’m not fit for Erudite; I’m too impulsive. I’m not fit for Candor, not with my love of secrecy. That leaves Dauntless and Abnegation. I may not want to live in Abnegation, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t fit my values. After all, what have I been doing for the past sixteen years? Following Eren around. Protecting Eren. Doing anything for Eren.

But would I do that for anyone? Oh, I don’t know! Do I need to know, really? Can’t I just choose? It doesn’t matter to me.

The fourth door opens out of the ten testing rooms and I snap out of it. A Dauntless woman greets me; her hair is naturally a deep brown, but you can see where the tips have been dyed red. She wears chunky glasses that glint in the sunlight.

“Hi. Come on in,” she says, grinning. “Don’t worry.”

The room’s walls are covered in mirrors, like the rooms of some houses in our faction. I can see myself, my terrified self – paler than a ghost, trembling with sweaty hands. In the middle is a chair, like the one you get at the dentist, hooked up to some monitoring equipment. The glare from the lights is blinding.

“Trust me, it’s not that bad. What’ve they been telling you?” she asks as I sit in the seat.

“Nothing. I just don’t see the point,” I reply, concentrating on my reflection. “You can go through all this trouble, get a result and then it’s irrelevant because you choose another faction.”

“Well, I don’t make up the rules, do I?” she says, approaching me.

“So, how does this work?” I say, fighting the temptation to rip off the electrode that has just been pressed onto my forehead. I don’t feel like doing this.

“I’ll explain afterwards,” she answers, pressing one onto her own. Then, she hands me a glass of deep blue liquid.

“I’ll drink it once I know what’s in it,” I protest. I don’t want to do this.

“Serum. Stop stalling and drink up.”

Well, I’m gonna have to. I put my lips to the glass and tilt it upwards.

Then everything goes black.

-

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this is probably going to be a much better story once it's finished. Just saying.

Chapter 2

 

When I wake up, everything comes back in an instant.

I am Eren Jaeger. I am a sixteen year old boy living in Chicago with my mother and sister. I am in an Aptitude Test that will ready me for the Choosing Ceremony tomorrow. This will help me determine which faction I will live in for the rest of my life.

I’m back in the cafeteria again, but I’m alone this time. I look out of the window to see that it’s now raining. It was bright before, wasn’t it? Bright but bitterly windy. In front of is a copy of the room I was in before, but on the tables are two baskets – one contains a slab of cheese; the other a knife.

A male voice booms behind me, though I can’t see the source. “Choose,” it says.

I debate obeying. “Why?” I ask in reply.

“Choose,” it repeats.

“Why do I need to?” I demand.

“Choose!” it orders.

“I want to know why!” I yell.

“Fair enough,” it answers. “Here is the reason.”

This is the Aptitude Test. I can’t fail this, so I can’t have done anything wrong.

The baskets vanish. Behind me, I can hear growling – a dog. So I would’ve had to feed it, or kill it. That doesn’t bother me too much, I guess. But this is the Aptitude Test, so what am I meant to do? Isn’t the whole point that the choices you make decide your result?

I doubt that you get to refuse to do it in the first place. Or maybe that’s a rebellious response that will get me Dauntless as a result?

“What do you want me to do?” I shout, even though nobody can hear me. That’s when the dog charges at me, baring its razor-sharp teeth. I can identify it – a German shepherd.

In class, we learnt about animal behaviour. I regret zoning out and staring out of the window. If Mikasa was here with me, then she’d be a lot of help. She always listens and sometimes, I share her notes or copy her homework. Well, it’s not like you need any qualifications for the jobs in Dauntless, is it?

It’s about to pounce when the thought finally occurs: this is all in my head. I can do whatever I want, and I don’t have to get hurt. _I can’t._ Here it is – this raging hound about to attack me. In a regular situation, I could get seriously injured. It’s a good thing that it’s not.

As the dog nears my body, I throw it out of the way. That was unexpected – it’s practically weightless and doesn’t resist at all. However, that’s not all – it comes back at me again, ready to pounce. I tense up: I’ll admit that I’m afraid. My heart feels like it’s trying to escape my chest, but then I have a single relieving thought.

_This is in your head._

_You have all control._

Instinctively, I toss the dog again; I can’t do much else. This time, though, I throw it to the ground. Because I have control of the situation, it flees, whimpering and limping through the pain. I didn’t need to kill it after all that fuss, so why make us choose if we’re able to control the test?  Unless, the way you control it is the test… I don’t know, but I don’t have time to be thinking right now, never mind _overthinking_.

The only thing in front of me is a boy – a boy that looks just like me, but younger. And he’s crying. Come on, I just saved his life! Apparently so, anyway; I didn’t even notice him before. Is that a bad thing?

 I turn around, and the environment is completely different. Checking my hands, I realise that there are no traces of the dog ever existing. Not even a single hair on my fingertips. I’m back on the bus, presumably on my way home. A man is sat on the seat across from me, piercing me with his glare. I can’t put a finger on his age, but his voice has a drawl to it. He looks up from his newspaper.

“You there, boy,” he says in a raspy voice. “You see this one, here? He’s a firm believer in outside the Fence.” He points out a picture on the page. There’s a blonde boy, with wide blue eyes who looks too familiar. Then I realise it’s Armin.

_Can’t you change this? Can’t you just change the picture?_

“Well, are you one of them? Off your rocker about going outside?” he asks, almost threatening me. I shrug. “Well, are you?” he asks again, the anger in his voice rising. “Answer me, boy. I’ll give you one last chance. Do you believe in the world outside the Fence?”

It takes me a while to really think about it. I can’t change the picture, or the situation.

“Do you?”

“Yes, sir! I do! Outside the Fence is a world of opportunity! And what are we doing? Acting like it’s a cage; living like cattle. We shouldn’t limit ourselves. Now, if you don’t believe me…” I reply. I don’t tend to think before I speak, or shout for that matter. I guess it’s why people call me an idiot. “Well, that shows what kind of person you are.”

“What kind of person I am?” he retorts. “A completely rational human being? Well, I’m fine with that.”

“You don’t understand!” I shout.

“I completely understand, young man,” he replies in a stern tone. “Unlike you, I am not a suicidal maniac. You are a threat to society.”

“I am no threat! Just because I believe in something you think is completely stupid, it doesn’t make me dangerous. You don’t know what’s out there and neither do I, but it could be something we’ve never imagined. It could change the world! If anything, you’re stopping us. That makes you the threat.”

Then it’s all over.

-

I wake up in a cold sweat, like a child waking up from their worst nightmare yet. I’m lying in the dentist’s chair in the room full of mirrors. There’s a woman stood next to me – yes, her name’s Hange. I remember that. I went in the same room as Mikasa, so she’s just experienced what I have too…hopefully, anyway.

The Aptitude Test is over. I am back in reality. Hange pulls the electrodes from my forehead, and then her own. She looks puzzled. Have I failed? No, I can’t have failed on this. What have I done wrong?

“I say,” she gasps. How did I fail? Will they kick me out of my faction now? Will I even be able to choose? I don’t want to be Factionless; I wouldn’t survive! I just want to go home. I don’t even need to know – I’m going to be Dauntless. I want to kick and scream and cry; I want to throw a tantrum. But that’d be childish.

Hange leaves the room, heightening the suspense. I grip the arms of the chair and wait for her return. Why am I so stupid?

“Sorry about that,” she says. She doesn’t look me in the eyes – something is very wrong. Instead, she looks down at her hands. There’s a tattoo on her hand, but I’ll have to ask about that later. “Your results… they were inconclusive.”

Inconclusive. Inconclusive?

“Now, normally each stage of the simulation sections off one aspect of each Faction. You start by picking the knife – Dauntless – or the cheese – Amity. Except you didn’t choose either.”

“So what does this mean?” I question.

“You see, you protested far too much, ruling out Erudite,” she begins. Well, of course I’m not smart. “So you fought the dog, which was brave…But you didn’t notice the little kid who could’ve been put in danger.”

“That rules out Abnegation.”

“I guess so. I had to modify your test manually to rule out the other factions. When you were on the bus, though… You told the truth, which in a normal situation would result in Candor. Except, you’d already given a Dauntless response.”

“So I have an aptitude for both Candor and Dauntless?”

“Precisely,” she says. But this isn’t a school test, where the more you get is the better. She looks quite grim. “What I’m saying is that you are incredibly dangerous.” Hange checks her surroundings, reducing her voice to a whisper. “What I’m saying is that… You’re Divergent.”

Hange walks around the chair so that she is stood in front of me and looks me in the eye. “This information is extremely high risk. You must not tell anyone.”

“Anyone?” I ask.

“Anyone. They believe that you’re a threat to society.” That’s what the man said in the test. He was telling the truth, one way or another.

“What even is Divergent?”

“Divergence: it’s a lot more complex than it sounds. You can resist serums, and you’re aware in simulations so you can manipulate them too. That’s dangerous to everyone else because it means you’re unpredictable and uncontrollable. You can resist the way they want you to think. You aren’t what they want you to be.”

I will never fit in. I think differently; I act differently; I am different. And they don’t want me to be, so that puts them in danger. Now I’m in danger.

“Now, if I were you, I would stay away from Candor. You’ll be put under something called the truth serum, and even though you’re Divergent it’s hard to resist. Erudite is equally dangerous, because they’ll figure you out straight away. Dauntless, not so much.” She explains. “Amity and Abnegation are low risk, but you have no aptitude for either.”

“Then I’m going to Dauntless.” I reply. I may seem sure to her, but this has completely thrown me.

“And Eren,” she says, “when I say don’t share them with anyone, I mean nobody and never. Divergence can be deadly. I’ll modify your results on the system.” She presses a few buttons on the machine. “As of now, you have an aptitude only for Dauntless.”

“You’re not going to give me up?”

“No, I’m not.”

“So, that tattoo. Earlier, I was just wondering what exactly –” she cuts me off.

“The tattoo is a feather,” she begins, waiting for me to catch on. “Birds fly with wings of freedom. I believe in freedom, and I won’t let you be captured because you’re different. You deserve it as much as the rest of us do. Nobody deserves to die because they were born the way they were.”

“Thanks, I guess,” I say.

“Get going,” she replies. That’s the last I’ll hear of Hange. “You might see me around one day.”

Or maybe not.

 

I am not Dauntless.  I am not Candor.

I am not Amity, Erudite or Abnegation.

I am Divergent.

And that makes me dangerous.

Incredibly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little key for anyone who doesn't know:  
> *** is a POV change.  
> \- is a scene change.

Chapter 3

 

Of course I can’t walk home with Mikasa. She said she wanted to be alone this afternoon, and I think I want to be too. I’ll have to take the bus, though – even after twelve years at school, I don’t know the area well enough. Armin isn’t at the bus stop when the bus arrives, and I’m not sure if that’s on purpose or not. Maybe he didn’t want to be around people either.

As I grab a seat on the bus, I get thinking. I have less than a day to decide the rest of my life.

Dauntless…Candor…Dauntless...Candor…

Divergent…

…Danger. Why does this make me dangerous? I mean, does it even make a difference? I’m going to Dauntless, aren’t I?

This is it. I’m going to have to lie for the rest of my life if I want it to continue.  That is, if I actually know what it’ll be – probably not outside the Fence. I can’t put in the words how much I want everything to be different. I don’t want to be Divergent; I want only Dauntless as a result. I’ll go there, and I’ll clear initiation without a problem. Then I’ll live a normal Dauntless life, without threat or worry.

At least now I know it won’t happen. Surely it’s better if I have a clue?

Tomorrow, I’ll spill my blood into the Dauntless coals and start a new life. And Mikasa will come with me. Even though that means leaving Mom behind, Dauntless is about being brave. This is what I want.

The bus stops, only a street away from my house. Our faction is very open, and almost all the houses are white with wide windows. They’re all in different styles, but there’s nothing secretive about any of them. Our house is quite small and simple – it’s only the three of us. It’s on one of the many monotone cul-de-sacs in this area, a detached home on the end.

Mikasa isn’t home when I get in, only mom’s there.

“She didn’t come home with you?” she asks.

“She said she wanted some space,” I answer.

-

While I’m sitting at the table waiting for dinner, I start to wonder: how much can I trust Mikasa? Hange said to tell nobody, never. I told her about joining Dauntless, and she went out told Mom. That was a slap in the face. If I tell her about my Divergence, is it the same principle? Would Mikasa have one slip of the tongue and end my life, just like that? Surely not. Still, it’s probably not a good idea to tell her. I should keep the people who know to a minimum.

Mikasa’s watching me from across the table, like a hawk. I know she’ll raise the question soon. Sheepishly, she pushes her blouse sleeves up to her elbows and rests them on the table.

“So,” she says gloomily. “Are you still going through with it?”

I don’t know why she seems so upset. I can’t imagine we both got the same result.

I exhale deeply. “What other choice do I have?” I lower my voice, wary of our mother who is only a few feet away in the kitchen. “I can’t come back here, and I don’t want to. I’m still going.”

“What do you mean, you can’t come back?” she probes.

“It doesn’t matter,” I brush off. Really, it’s ironic: I’m a divergent with Candor as a result but I can’t be honest about it. “Look, are you coming with me, or not?”

“Of course I am. I’m your sister, and we stick together. Just promise me one thing,” she requests.

“What is it?”

“Dauntless is a dangerous place, okay? Shut your mouth when you need to.”

If only she knew. “Fair enough,” I agree. That can’t be a difficult promise to keep.

 

***

 

I pick at my food. The table is silent, apart from the sounds of cutlery scraping on plates. We might live in a Candor household, but this is not the time to be open and talkative. Mom wants to give us time to reflect on our results and the upcoming ceremony.

I chose the knife. I killed the dog. I cried.

Is this the life of a Dauntless? I hope it’s not just about killing; killing isn’t bravery. Protecting your loved ones is bravery. Facing your fears is bravery. Is killing one of my fears?

I can see right through Eren. My usually honest brother is hiding something, which he rarely does. The only time he does anything of that nature is when he’s in really serious trouble, or much worse – danger. When you think about it, that’s kind of stupid. Though, it’s an advantage for me because it helps me to read him. If Eren’s in danger, I need to intervene. But, it could be about the test results. If I was him, I wouldn’t want to talk about that.

No, I can’t ask. That would be wrong. I shift my weight so that I lean on one arm.

“Why do we have to stay silent?” I ask. “That’s kind of the wrong approach. If this is our last day here, shouldn’t we be looking back on everything so far?”

“How do you mean?” Mom questions, smiling. She laughs. “Most of your memories must be Eren getting into trouble!”

“Like… like that time when…” I stumble.

“Like that time when we were on our way to school, before we were allowed to take the bus,” Eren says, taking the lead. “And the Dauntless were just getting off the trains.”

I try to make an effort. “Yeah, except they weren’t just getting off, they were jumping. Daredevils. And then you started running with them!” That was when he fell in love with their lives.

“You did too!” Eren answers back.

“Only because I didn’t want you to get into any trouble,” I reply. “It’s kind of always been like that.” I guess you could say I mirror Eren. I don’t really have that much time to be myself, not when he’s always running around and bothering others.

“You don’t have to. You’re not my mom.”

“That would be me. And as your mother, I suggest you get an early night.” Mom adds in.

“Seriously? It’s only seven!” Eren protests.

“Yes, but I want you to have an early night-”

“That’s not fair; we’re not little kids.” I join in. Anywhere else, I probably wouldn’t – but this is our home where we’re taught to stand up and speak our minds.

“And, if you would let me finish, have a stress free evening. I don’t want you worrying about your results,” she says. “I love you both. I’ll do the washing up, okay?”

“Love you too, Mom,” we chorus. I think we really do mean it – how could we not? This evening is about looking back, so I race Eren up the stairs, something we used to do since we could walk. Then we grew up, and I realised that I needed to keep him close to me where he was safe. I think that’s when I stopped being a little kid: when Eren started to get punished. When he stopped being treated that way, I stopped being that way.

I just don’t want him to be punished in our new life in Dauntless.

-

I tie my hair up before I go to bed, something I do every night. Now, it’s a lot shorter and harder to do. This is something I’d never do in public, however; I do like my hair blowing in my face. It makes me feel a bit freer.

After taking my outfit out for the Choosing Ceremony, I sit on my bed, facing Eren’s. He’s laid down staring at the ceiling.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing…” he mumbles, turning his back on me. “It’s the Ceremony tomorrow, that’s all.” Yes, it’s definitely the Aptitude Test result.

“Look, it doesn’t matter that you didn’t get Dauntless as a result. You can still go. You can still be one of them…” I’m not the best at comforting, I have to say. Well, I tried, and that’s what counts.

“Did you have to bring it up?” he snaps.

“I’m just trying to help you feel better, alright?”

“We’re not meant to talk about our results. You know that, so do I; I’m not saying. It’s not about the Aptitude Test. Can you just trust me for once?”

Because usually, I don’t. “Okay. I’ll drop it. I trust you. But if you want to talk to me…” I can tell the tension is rising, and it’s best to abandon the subject.

“Please, Mikasa. You’re not the best with feelings.”

“True. Night, Eren.”

“Night, Mikasa.”

 

***

If only I could tell her. If only if everything wasn’t so dangerous. If only I wasn’t divergent. Then I could be honest with her, my own sister.

If only I didn’t have to lie.

If only I really had the choice.

If only.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 

I wake up tense. Somehow, I managed to fall asleep last night, but I feel absolutely drained. Today is the day everything changes, and that scares me.

A lot.

But it’s also the day I finally get to choose the faction I’ve wanted to be in since I was young. It’s now, and I guess there is no never. I have to do it.

I won’t be coming back home. That also scares me a lot.

The worst part? I might not even be able to survive initiation. That scares me the most.

We don’t take the bus into town today, because it’ll be far too crowded. Instead, Mom walks us straight into the Hub. They say that if you climbed to the top of the fence, you’d be able to see the prongs at the top – that’s tall. It’s the tallest in the city, according to Armin, who’s never wrong.

She gives both of us a tight hug, so tight that I feel like I might explode. I want to keep this moment forever; I want to stay like this. I’m not crying. I don’t cry. Someone else’s tears run down my cheeks instead – Mom’s.

“I love you both. I know that wherever you’ll go, you’ll go far. Don’t forget that. Now, you only have each other, so stick together. Mikasa, you have been the best daughter to me that I could have asked for. Eren, you have been the most wonderful son. I love you.” She’s crying, just full blown crying. I guess we all are, one way or another; maybe on the inside.

A few members of Abnegation give up their spaces in the elevator for us. I find it odd, because their actions never seem sincere. It feels like they don’t want to, but they have to. There’s a difference. The elevator whizzes up stories, and I feel breathless, my heart fluttering as I step out. We get a final hug.

I follow Mom while Mikasa is moved somewhere else. I had forgotten that Mikasa’s…technically not my sister, until today, because we have to sit in order of surname. Ackerman is not going to be next to Jaeger. Mom and I share the same surname, though. Mikasa doesn’t like to talk about it – none of us do – but she’s adopted. It’s a long story, and it’s sad, but that’s the gist of it.

However, I can only follow her so far, as all sixteen year olds must stand on the edges of each faction. We are arranged in segments of the circular room; each faction is like a slice. This isn’t even the whole faction though.

It’s just my luck. I have to be stood next to a certain Jean Kirschtein.

What an asshole. He looks like a horse.

Whatever. It’s got to be the last time I see him in my life, hasn’t it? He’s so brutally honest that he’s got to stay in Candor, surely. I haven’t talked to him that much, just because I can’t stand the sight of him.

I look across to the other factions at people I barely know. Then I see Armin, who looks at me with an unsure smile. I smile back. It’s going to be so different, so soon. I glance back to my own; in my peripheral vision I can see my sister. She glances towards me, but unless you knew she was looking at me, you’d think she hadn’t taken any notice. Mikasa’s like that.

The speaker this year is the esteemed leader of Erudite: Erwin Smith. He steps up to the microphone.

“Welcome to the Choosing Ceremony. Welcome to the day where we honour the democratic philosophy of our ancestors, where every man has the right to choose his own way in this world.”

 

***

 

Choose his own way? He only has five options. And those five options don’t offer all that much when it comes to actually living your life. Like Candor teaches us to work well as a mirror, this all suggests that you just have to fulfil your purpose. Done.

That’s not the case! We have lives so we can live them, and do something meaningful!

“Our dependents are now sixteen. They stand on the precipice of adulthood, and it is now up to them to decide what kind of people they will be.”  Same speech every year, I assume. I focus on the bowls in the centre of the room. I am Dauntless; that was my result. I am joining Dauntless, because I will follow my brother. I will be Dauntless; that is who I am.

“Those who blamed aggression formed Amity.”

Ha, and in return abandoned their backbones. There stands a cluster of giggling hippies in red and yellow. I don’t admire them hugely, and it’s never had any appeal to me.

“Those who blamed ignorance formed Erudite.”

However, they have to calculate every move. They can’t act on impulse, not like I can.

“Those who blamed duplicity formed Candor.”

That has been me for the past sixteen years, but I can’t keep up the act. There comes a point where you crave secrecy.

“Those who blamed selfishness formed Abnegation.”  
I am not selfless. I protect my brother because I want him with me, and that has to be the most selfish act of all.

“And those who blamed cowardice formed Dauntless.”

Like me.

At the moment, I feel weightless, which is not ideal when I have to walk in front of part of Chicago’s population. Alone. What will I do? I will not stain the glass fragments with my blood when I am handed the knife. I cannot. I will spill it on the hot coals of Dauntless.

The motto from the history books at school comes to mind: faction before blood. So, in theory, I should be choosing Dauntless because that’s where I want to go; not joining to stay with Eren. Faction before blood. I do not belong in a family; I belong in one of the five factions.

That is wrong.

Being called up first is nothing to be happy about, not here. But I am – what can I do about it now? I train my eyes on the floor and thankfully make it up the steps. The tall blond man hands me the knife; I accept. It feels too heavy in my hand.

I steady my breathing, my slippery hands making a cut in my pale skin. I hear every mutter and whisper because the room is so silent; I can hear my own shallow breaths and my own heartbeat. I squeeze my hands over the bowl, ignoring the stinging.

I do not stain the glass fragments with my blood.

I do not turn the bowl of water a deep shade of crimson.

I do not hold my hand over Amity’s soil.

I do not drip my blood on the plain stones of Abnegation.

No, I spill my blood on the sizzling hot coals.

I have made my choice. I will be Dauntless.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel bad not writing a summary but I don't wanna reveal all that much. Well, this chapter introduces our third-and-final POV (for now).

Chapter 5

 

The first person and a faction transfer! What a disgrace.

I shuffle away from the bowls behind the Dauntless-borns, the first of many initiates. There’s a few in between me and Armin, but soon enough he’s called up. He does the same as me, and really he’s the bravest here. He was the one who dared to step away from the faction he belonged in. Next to join – or return – are a blond Dauntless-born (who must be built like an ox), a brunette from Amity and another one from the same faction, with black hair in thick pigtails.

Armin is stood next to me, holding my hand: we are waiting for Eren. I exchange glances with him and tense up as Eren Jaeger is called to the podium. We’re thinking the same thing.

***

 

This is my chance. This is the only opportunity I’ll get, and I have to choose one of five like everyone else. Why am I so stressed? I’m going to Dauntless and that’s a fact.

But I’m leaving my mother. That’s what’s so unsettling.

_Faction before blood._ Well, that’d be okay if I was fit for one alone.

I accept the knife and stare into the bowl. Then at my hands. The silver blade meets crimson red blood, and I squeeze my hand over. It doesn’t sting as much as the guilt in my stomach.

Well, it’s done now – I can hear the violent hiss as my blood hits the coals. A wave of excitement drowns the guilt because I, Eren Jaeger, am going to be Dauntless. That’s a fact; I’m going to make it through initiation. I walk down the steps and over to my friends in the crowd. Mikasa give me a knowing smile.

It’s just my luck – the next person to join Dauntless is, of course, Jean Kirschtein. I’m really just trying to have a nice start to my new life, you know. Was this really necessary? He ignores me – hopefully, it’ll continue like this, and hopefully he isn’t saving everything for later. But I’m usually wrong.

Soon enough, the ceremony is over. We’re ushered out the doors, and I feel so alive and energetic and fidgety. Through a gap in the crowd, I can see my mother sat in her seat. I stare into her hazel eyes.

She doesn’t look disappointed. She looks incredibly happy. Those are tears of joy streaming down her cheeks.

 

-

And then we’re running, not out of fear, but for the sake of it. Because in Dauntless, we’re free. I catch up with Mikasa and Armin.

“Glad you could make it,” she laughs, smiling genuinely. My own sister, happy? That’s unheard of. Armin is just beaming. It’s pretty clear he has no aptitude for Dauntless, but he came here anyway.

“You know, you’re really brave,” I shout over the roar of the crowd, pumping fists and yelling. Out on the streets, the sun’s rays are streaming in between the buildings, creeping between the pillars. We almost run through the other side of the crowd.

“They’re going up!” Armin shouts, surprised. Indeed they are; they’re climbing up the rail track’s supports. So this is the first part of initiation – getting to the Dauntless compound.

I’m not scrawny, but I don’t get up the pole with ease, unlike Mikasa. When I get to the top, I realise what we’re doing. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time – we’re getting on a train that never stops.

My lungs are shattered but we’re still running further up the platform; Armin is a little behind but he’ll be with us when the train comes. I hope. I hear the roar in my ear, amplified by the wind; it’s loader than anything I’ve heard before. I don’t have long to stare because other members are gauging where they’re going to jump on, and I need to do the same. I follow a group of other transfers with Mikasa.

We try to match the speed of the train as it approaches. If Armin doesn’t move soon, he won’t be able to get on. “Armin!” I call. “Armin!” He’s mesmerized by it. Surely an Erudite wouldn’t be so foolish as to leave it too late? I call a third time before running, and then he realises.

My sister and I manage to get into one of the carriages on our own, heaving ourselves up onto the last one because the rest are full. Armin is still behind; he’s not quick enough to grab onto the train. Mikasa holds out her hands first and I follow.

We barely haul him up onto the train.

 

***

I curse myself for being so selfish: I could’ve helped that boy up onto the train. I could’ve been responsible for making someone Factionless! Why? Simply because there were enough people. Well, there might not have been. I’m meant to be selfless, no matter what. That’s what Abnegation is about, and that’s how I’ve been raised. I’m awful, just forgetting everything I’ve grown up with.

I mean, the worst part has to be joining Dauntless. Especially when I’m not even meant to be here. You’re born to be selfless, and then you stay selfless by continuing an Abnegation life. Anything else – following your heart – that’s completely the opposite. The most selfish act of all.

But I’m not meant to be anyone, or anything, anyway. I’m worthless. Society doesn’t want me. My family doesn’t want me. Everyone hates me, and everyone always will. These people here just don’t know me well enough yet. Maybe, just maybe with a new life and faction, I’ll be likeable… Maybe I’ll be everything they told me I wouldn’t be.

Through the opening where the train door used to be, I watch the Hub fly past along with the rest of the city.

“Don’t fall out, princess,” a raspy voice behind me says. I’m initially scared.

I turn around. “Oh, I won’t,” I reply, not knowing how to. There sits a girl, resting on her heels in Dauntless attire: bold and brave. Nothing like the boring Abnegation clothes we have to wear; plain grey shifts – no shorter than the knee, woollen tights, frumpy cardigans… Yes, this is why I wanted to leave. I want to express myself. Her tanned skin is dotted with freckles and she has deep brown hair, tied up loosely in a ponytail. “So…” I start. “Um, how long are we on the train for?”

“Eh, not long,” she answers casually. “I hope you’re not scared. I mean, stiffs joining Abnegation usually don’t expect all that much from us. Trust me, we’re unpredictable.”

Stiffs. Honestly? I’d use it myself if it wasn’t my home faction. That’s what we are – bland, dull and stiff.

“How so?” I continue.

“Let’s just say I hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

We chat for a while, and everything is a lot freer. I’m already happier away from them. I’m talking about myself, breaking away from an Abnegation habit of not drawing attention. Whilst watching the scenery fly by, it occurs to me that I don’t even know her name. How selfish of me not to ask.

“Hey, what’s your name?” I ask boldly, laughing.

“It’s Ymir,” she replies. “And you?” Then someone taps her on the shoulder, and I hear the word ‘jump’. “Hey, Stiff? Whoever you are, you’re gonna have to jump off onto the compound. Let’s test whether you really are Dauntless. See you on the other side!”

In a split second, she’s one of the first to go.

Time is running out and all I’m doing is let the howling wind slap me in the face. I’m going to have to face my fears. I’m going to have to accept the fact that this is Dauntless. I’m going to have to be brave. Well, what did I expect?

I stand up. The only people left are two kids from Amity, the pair from Candor and their Erudite friend. And then the Candors jump too. The girl from Amity takes that as a sign to go too. Then her friend follows. This is what I signed up for.

I’m left with the Erudite boy.

“On three, alright?” I say.

“Alright. Try and throw yourself as far forward as possible,” he agrees. “One… two…Three!”

For a fraction of a second, I feel weightless, flying through the air. Then, gravity kicks in. I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder as I tackle the ground, rolling like a ragdoll. The shock spreads through my body, muffled by adrenaline, though. It takes me a few seconds to come back to reality before I stand up.

Using my elbow to push myself up, I grit my teeth through the pain. I brush the gravel off my cardigan. At the edge of the roof, there’s a Dauntless boy knelt down. He’s quite tall, with bright blond hair.

“Oh my God…” I hear. I know exactly what’s happened.

The Amity girl from my carriage runs up to him, distraught. “Where’s… where’s Samuel?” she sobs. I feel responsible. I should be over there, comforting them. But I’m not. Because I’m selfish.

This is what Dauntless is like. People get hurt and people die. This is what I signed up for.

The boy I jumped with is laid on the ground beside me, staring up at the sky, panting. I stand up and join Ymir, hoping that he’ll follow me to his friends. She pulls off her jet black hoodie, tying it around her waist, revealing a dark red tank top.

“Your tights are ripped,” I say. “And so are your shorts…”

“So?” she giggles. “It looks fine.” She stands proudly, hands on hips with her chest pushed out. I feel safe with Ymir, even in the most dangerous faction, and I barely even know her. My shoulder still hurts from crashing down on it, but I can’t examine it, so I kind of fidget awkwardly.

When everyone has gathered in the crowd, one of the Dauntless leaders begins to speak, standing on the ledge. It’s not like a few teens just fell to their deaths or anything. His hair more or less covers his eyes; perhaps he didn’t see it happen. No, he must know. “Hey!” he booms. “I am Mike! I’m one of the leaders of your new faction. That is, if you can make it through initiation. Now, if you’re wondering when that starts, the answer is: now.” This is a Dauntless member: loud and intimidating. But is that every member?

“Where are we going?” someone asks further down the line. They’ll regret that.

“You sound like a volunteer, is that right? Stories below us is the compound – you’ve seen how far down that is. Now we want you to jump.” At this, everyone begins to mutter and whisper about what’s at the bottom, even Ymir. “So, if you’d like to come up here, young man.”

“I’d rather not,” he retorts smugly. The crowd splits and I finally get to see him. He’s from Candor, with ash brown hair and intense golden eyes. Well, that’s only a mistake a Candor would make.

“That was not a question of ‘would you like to’. If you think you can interrupt your superiors, you do not belong here. We are brave, but we are respectful. But, it’s obvious you aren’t going to jump out of bravery. So initiates, who’s gonna be the first jumper? Who wants to show their bravery?” Mike shouts.

Well, this is my chance to make an impression.

I push my way through the crowd, ignoring the remarks about my faction. Looking down into the dark abyss, I stand at the edge of my new life. It’s like I’m blind; I don’t know what I’m about to become. Someone has to go, right? I shrug off my cardigan and wrap it around my wrist, gripping it in both hands. It just makes me more focused.

Can’t back down now, Historia.

The wind batters my face, giving my hair a mind of its own. My heart rate heightens and my breathing becomes sharper. I already jumped off a train today. This is the same thing, except vertically. They’re not going to let an initiate die after the trains… right?

You’re gonna have to, Historia.

Prove your worth, Historia.

I look downwards again, and swallow. I’m going to jump through a square hole in the roof. There’s a pit in my stomach and I shudder. Here they act first. They don’t even leave enough time to be afraid.

I didn’t think about joining Dauntless or abandoning Abnegation.

I need to stop thinking now.


	6. Chapter 6

                                                    

Chapter 6

 

And I fall.

Darkness encases my body as I crash towards the ground below. In the darkness, I can see a net expanding, getting larger and larger until it swallows me whole upon impact. It knocks the air out of me. I shake rapidly, but I’m laughing and crying and I feel like screaming my name up to the group at the top.

A hand reaches out to me which I grab onto, steadying myself. I practically roll off the net. I’m staring into stormy grey eyes, void and emotionless. Taking in the secret world around me, I get up in no time.

“Thanks,” I say. Everything is much clearer now: I am looking at a man with raven hair, just about taller than me. For a Dauntless, he doesn’t look that happy.

“Hey, first jumper!” a voice exclaims behind me.

“Can it, Zoe. So, Stiff, what’s your name?” The guy I’m still holding onto says gruffly. He drops my hand. That label’s thrown around all over, it seems. “It’s not that difficult to remember, is it? What, are you thinking of a new name?” He asks sarcastically.

“A new name?” I ask – is he being serious?

“Why the hell not?” he answers, obviously wanting to get this over with. A new name; a new identity!

You might think it odd that I have a name at hand. But this is the person I’ve wanted to be all my life, because when they said the things they said, it would just make me want change. Because this person was wanted. Because this person was a good person.

“It’s Krista,” I reply confidently. “Krista Lenz.”

“Make the announcement, Levi!” the girl behind him says – she has burgundy coloured hair and two studs in each ear.

“First jumper: Krista Lenz!” he yells upwards. Then to me, he says, “Yeah, welcome to Dauntless.”

 

***

 

The first jumper was from Abnegation? No, that can’t be right. They don’t even transfer that often. Still, it doesn’t matter that much. The jump was exhilarating – this sounds childish, but I hope we can do it again. And Jean was hilarious, too; he’s never going to live that down. Mikasa followed me down, and Armin was next. Now we’re all on the stone floor, being led down a rocky tunnel.

The lights are spaced at intervals, so much so in the middle it’s pitch black and you can’t see where you’re walking. Especially me; Jean stops abruptly and I crash into him.

“Hey asshat, watch where you’re going!” he jabs.

“You should expect it if you’re gonna stop in pitch black darkness!” I retort.

“Will you two cut it out?” a voice shouts. I think he’s our instructor, Levi, although I didn’t quite catch his name.

The group walks forward into the light. In front of us stand four people: three men (Mike, Levi, and another I don’t know the name of) and Hange. She sees me and smiles. She can’t be an instructor, but now I’m here how will she keep me safe?

“And this is where we split,” Mike says. “Dauntless-borns, you go with Keith. I’m pretty sure you don’t need a tour of the compound. Transfers will stay here, with Levi and me.”

The Dauntless-borns make their way through the group and leave with Keith, a man with dark skin, a bald head and an even darker beard. His eyes are sunken and piercing. They walk down one of the paths and I hear a door shut in the distance.

“Initiates. I am Levi. You may know me as one of the five Dauntless leaders, which I am. However, we are low on instructors and since most of our members wouldn’t be good enough for the job, I decided to take the reins.” In the dim blue light I see him take a flashlight out of his cargo pants. “I will oversee your training. I will mould you into true members of Dauntless. I know the way, but I guess you’d like it if you could actually see the compound.”

Mike leads the way. “We’re about to enter the Pit. One day, you will consider it as your second home.”

He opens the door and I understand why immediately. The ‘Pit’ is like a canyon, a bustling hotspot for everyone here. It has steep, rocky walls and the top lacks railings. Now this is the place I want to be. Even the kids here aren’t afraid of anything, because they’re running up the narrow stairways as if they’re just the stairs at home. There are floors built into the walls, and as we walk along one of the pathways (which you could easily fall off) I see a range of different shops cut even further in: gyms, grocery stores, boutiques, leisure centres. This place has it all!

I look down below to where were heading next, and the Dauntless-born group are stood below, a few stories down. They’re waving…pointing upwards.

“Mikasa,” I shout above the noise. “What are they trying to say?”

“I think…” she replies at the same volume. Then the tilts her head up.

The sight is overwhelming. Beams of light extend along the grey walls, across the Pit, originating from the glass panelled roof above us. We jumped from _that high!_ I must’ve missed it before, blinded by excitement. Tiny blue lanterns swing from the ceiling like the ones in the tunnel we just walked through.

Okay, it’s not all designed and perfect like Candor is. But I don’t want it to be.

People surround us with shocking neon hair, inked skin and piercings, all in black; expressing themselves constantly. Mom was right about one thing: they live on the edge and die young. Well, that doesn’t bother me too much… If I’m going to do the things a Dauntless do, I’m going to have to be in the right state to do it. And anyway, life must get boring once you get old.

***

All this noise is giving me a pounding headache. Yet somehow, somewhere deep down, it’s awakening, thrilling. This place is exhilarating. Still, as we follow the leaders down the steps, I feel nauseous and my head is spinning. Maybe it’s the noise, maybe it’s the height, but I know I’m going to have to learn to live with both. Well, this is where I’m meant to be. Where else am I meant to go?

“Where you stand right now is the chasm,” Levi yells. “The Chasm shows us that there is an extremely fine line between idiocy and bravery. You want to show off to your friends and jump? Well, then you’ll end up dead. Learn the difference.”

Water crashes below us, faster than my racing heart, at war with the rocks beside it. I look to my left – the cliff wall is completely vertical. Not even a tiny bit slanted.

I can hear Armin whimpering beside me, but here is not the time to comfort him. “Armin,” I say through gritted teeth. “Pull yourself together. This is Dauntless, where nobody will be hesitant to call you a coward.” I can see his efforts to stop, even though they don’t work.

Our instructor leads us back across the Pit, through an enormous hole in the wall. Anywhere else, it could be an archway, but it is crude and blunt like the people here. As we arrive, people begin to hoot and punch their fists.

Expression. Emotion. They’re things I rarely experience.

Nevertheless, I find myself clapping along with them. The initiates scramble for seats next to their friends, and by the time I’ve taken in the lively atmosphere, there isn’t really a choice; I have to sit between a girl from Amity I saw on the train, and a Stiff – there are two this year, a boy and a girl.

“Two of you?” I ask the boy next to me. “You mean two of you were actually…like, allowed to leave Abnegation?”

He gives me a wide smile. “Well, yeah,” he says, scratching his neck. “We’re allowed anyway. I guess my family didn’t really mind.”

“Oh, I see. Do you know each other?” I continue, pointing at the other Stiff from across the table. “What’s her name?” Curiosity is kind of a second nature for me. As a Candor, you expect people to be truthful and you can tell when they aren’t, so it’s easier to find out things.

“No, we don’t really talk to people that much. Only when we’re doing something for a neighbour or a stranger. Going out to make friends is an act of self-indulgence, because you’re looking for someone to focus on you,” he explains. I give him a puzzled look. “I know, it’s messed up,” he adds in response.

“It’s kind of easy to make friends in Candor,” I say. “Kind of. You know what people are like because they don’t lie.” I laugh, “but it’s also really easy to make enemies by speaking your mind.”

It’s kind of odd for me to be this talkative. I guess I’m just getting used to Dauntless.

“Oh, sorry!” he exclaims. “I forgot to ask. What’s your name?”

“Mikasa,” I answer. “Breaking habits fast, I see. Who are you?”

“My name’s Marco.”

***

Now this place is an escape. Dauntless is heaven. I’ve only been here for an hour and it’s turning out great. We sit on a long table, enough to fit all the initiates and both leaders. I end up squeezed on a bench between Levi and a girl named Sasha. One is a lot nicer than the other, but to me they’re equally intimidating. Everyone here kind of…is.

I stare at the food on my plate. What is it?

The girl next to me laughs. “What, haven’t you ever eaten a burger before? Like, haven’t you ever tried a hot dog?”

“What’s a hot dog?” I ask. I must sound clueless.

“Wow, Stiff life must be so dull,” she replies. “That on your plate is a burger. That in your glass is cola. This is ketchup, and I will be very disappointed if you don’t put it on your burger.”

I take the ketchup bottle she offers me, squeezing it onto the circle of meat inside the bread bun. Strange. “I guess it is, compared to this.” I take a bite – it’s delicious. Compared to this, Abnegation food is nothing!

“You know, if you get full, I’ll finish the rest,” she giggles. “My name’s Sasha. Come to me any time you have spare food!”

“Oh, I’m Krista,” I say quietly, nearly forgetting to introduce myself. Disregarding my Abnegation roots, I tune into the conversation I’m already overhearing.

“I don’t see why you hate the Erudite so much,” Mike says in his booming voice.

“I don’t hate them. I just don’t trust them; their beliefs are out of focus and ours will be soon,” Levi replies.

“Out of focus? We’re teaching the initiates the same thing: to be Dauntless. To be brave. To be strong. To be powerful.”

“Is that the only thing to bravery, then? Power?”

Promptly, Levi gets up and leaves, openly irritated. Mike chuckles. They can’t be friends, not with the way Levi disagrees with every word from Mike’s mouth, but they can’t be rivals either. They have nothing to compete over.

“Wow! For a Stiff, you sure are nosy,” Sasha says, breaking my train of thought. I can feel the heat rushing to my cheeks.

 

-

 

“Ok, you might think that because you’re Dauntless you can do what the hell you like! Well, that’s not the case. As initiates, you have rules to follow.

Number one! You will be in the training room from eight until six every day. You will get a break for lunch in the middle. Without a valid reason, you will face serious consequences. After that, you will have free time, where you can do whatever you like. You will also get this time between stages of initiation.

Number two! You will not leave the Dauntless compound without accompaniment. Leaving alone will result in extreme punishment.

Number three! You will obey your superiors.”

“Excuse me,” someone says in the crowd. I can’t see who it is because everyone’s taller than me. Everyone. “Where’s Levi?”

“I’m here,” replies a monotonous voice. “Don’t worry your stupid little head. Now if you follow me, you will see your dormitory. There are eleven of you, and only ten beds. Who’s going to sleep on the floor?”

At first, I assume he’s joking. Then everyone falls silent and he smirks; he’s being serious. “I will,” I volunteer.

“You know, Stiff, you should really start breaking away from your Abnegation habits,” he replies smugly.

“Well, someone has to. I don’t really care,” I say, staring into his blank eyes. “My name is Krista, by the way. I do have a name.”

“Alright. Now, Dauntless citizens get allocated a number of points each month to spend. It’s your responsibility to buy clothing – and bedding, for you, Krista – to replace what you have now. Get rid of your old faction. However, you will receive a standard set of Dauntless clothing in the morning,” Levi explains.

“Now, onto how initiation works,” Mike begins. Wow, this is getting boring… “For stage one, you are trained separately: Dauntless-borns and transfers. It would be unfair for you to compete together. However, you are still ranked together.”

“Ranked?” asks the boy who spoke first on the roof. “Why do we get ranked?”

“I’m starting to get sick of the sound of your voice interrupting my speech. Your ranks determine whether you make it through initiation, and after that, what jobs you will have access to. At the end of stage one, the four with the lowest ranks will be cut. You’ll have to leave the compound and live factionless.”

“But we chose Dauntless!” someone else protests.

In the blue light, I see him smirk. “And we get to choose you. You should’ve come here because this is where you’re meant to be.”

 

Meant to be?

Am I really meant to be here?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know I've not written much more for Hunger Games, but that actually needs more chapters writing. This one is the last chapter for what I've written already.

Chapter 7

 

For now, I am given a blanket to keep me warm at night. That’s all. I’m not sure how I’m going to last all of initiation with just a blanket…Perhaps I’ll be lucky for once. Oh, what am I thinking? ‘Perhaps I’ll be lucky’? It’s not like another bed’s just going to appear out of thin air.

The worst part is that nobody seems to even be grateful. Don’t they realise how uncomfortable the floor is? Here in Dauntless, I’m actually allowed to have these thoughts.

Nobody even thanked me!

On the floor I can hear ten other people inhale and exhale; I can just make out chests rising and falling. I wonder who’ll still be here in a matter of weeks. I might be able to make a prediction, but that prediction would be biased: I would say that I’d make it through initiation. But who knows? Some of the strongest people here might break under pressure. Some of the weakest people will fall early on.

And then, as I’m staring up at the ceiling, I’m thinking about that girl Ymir again. I need to go see her. Except, I can’t see her now because I don’t know where she is and the Dauntless-borns have their old houses anyway. I’ll just have to wait for her to reappear.

I just feel tired, not tired of anyone or anything but an empty sort of tired. A tired where too much has happened for me to process. I turn on my side, and after a while sleep manages to interrupt my thoughts.

***

As usual, Mikasa is the first to rise, so I am the second.  I don’t know why she couldn’t wake me just before we had to leave – then I’d probably have a decent amount of sleep. I grab a set of black clothing from the box in the middle of the room and pull it on.

My legs feel like they’re made of lead by the time we make it into the training room. When I see the others, one part of me feels sorry for the girl Stiff. Even the smallest size of clothing is too big for her; she’s practically a child. The other part of me doesn’t care. She’s probably going to be gone by the end of the first stage.

“Now you’re running in the big leagues,” Levi yells from the other end of the training room, “you need to know how to defend yourselves. The first thing you will learn to do is to shoot a gun.” He sharply turns on his heel, picks up a gun on the table in front of him, expertly aims and fires. His bullet reaches the very centre of the target, with only seconds of preparation. I flinch in response to the deafening bang that follows. “The second is to win a fight.” Mike appears out of nowhere and roughly forces a gun into my hand. “This is not one-to-one training. I expect you to pick up what you need to know from every instruction I give. So, today you will learn how to use a gun.”

“Guns? How’s that gonna teach us to be brave?” slips out of my mouth before I can stop it.

Then I find a loaded gun pressed to my temple. I can feel the colour drain from my face, but trying to play it cool I smirk. Even though I’m completely petrified.  “Feeling brave now, are you? If you know how to defend yourself, you’re not going to shit your pants and run to your mother.”

Someone else pipes up. “But, that’s not bravery. Isn’t that just preparation?”

Levi, keeping the gun against my head, turns in the direction of the voice. “Listen here, ponytail. If I wanted hippie free spirits like you trying to get me to ponder on the big questions, don’t you think I would’ve joined Amity?” Levi barks sternly, earning only silence. “That’s what I thought. Bravery is knowing how to act in the midst of terror. We’re teaching you how to act.” He then relieves the pressure of the gun against me.

Sasha nods sheepishly, but as soon as the instructor turns around she takes a bread roll out of her pocket and takes a bite. She then proceeds to giggle to her bald friend. Mike walks past, possibly glaring at her under his hair. He only gives her a gun, though. Armin is the last in line; he almost drops it like it’s a white-hot coal.

“I thought this was obvious, but you brats need to face the target. Watch me carefully,” Levi says, widening the distance between his feet. He uses both hands to hold the gun, then aims and fires again. This time, I’m ready for the noise that follows. The bullet hits the centre again. “Your turn.”

I turn around to face my own plywood square, battered from years of different initiates. With a gun in my hand, I don’t feel in control. I feel powerful, but wild. I put myself into the stance we were showed, planting my feet shoulder width apart and firmly gripping the gun. It feels slightly foreign pushing it away from my body, but the weight isn’t too much to handle.

I place my finger on the trigger and squeeze it gingerly. The gun doesn’t actually fire. I try again, sticking my tongue out with concentration as I aim. One gun nearby makes a bang, but it isn’t mine. I look to my left, then my right.

Of course it’s my sister. And of course, she’s hit close to the centre on her first try.

“You always have to be the best, don’t you?” I say, provoking her. Deep down, I’m slightly annoyed, but I’ll show her.

“Can’t stop what’s natural,” she replies, nonchalant.

“You mean,” I continue as I aim, “you don’t feel the slightest bit greedy?”

“Hell no,” she says. That’s my honest Mikasa. “We’re not in Abnegation.”

“Look, you’ll see. You might not be so good after-” I pull the trigger mid-sentence. “All.”

My bullet does actually hit the target, not close to the middle, but at least it hits! Mikasa just giggles as I have another go; I obviously look annoyed.

“Oh, I feel so threatened,” she taunts sarcastically, turning back to her gun. I aim again, but her firing puts me off. My bullet doesn’t make it anywhere near the target, earning another snicker from Mikasa.

“Come on!” I yell, frustrated.

It takes me a few more tries (and a lot more teasing) but I finally hit the centre of the target before some of the group. Well, some. Most.

 Armin, on the contrary, hasn’t even hit the target yet – Mike is glaring at him from afar.

“Armin!” I hiss down the line. “Armin!” Once I get his attention, I say, “Stop using so much technique. Put a bit more into it. You’re firing a gun, dammit!”

He replies with a confused look. “You’re supposed to be acting in the ‘midst of terror’,” I quote.

Something tells me that Armin didn’t get Dauntless a result; that’s worrying, because… well, it’s what Mike said.

_“And we get to choose you. You should’ve come here because this is where you’re meant to be.”_

 

-

 

Unfortunately, the break for lunch doesn’t allow us to leave and do whatever we like. We have to be back in the training room by one, only giving us an hour for lunch. My hands still feel like they’re holding the gun, and when I splay my fingers the crackle. When we get our free time tonight, I want to look Dauntless. I’m planning on getting a tattoo.

Maybe one like Hange’s. Speaking of her, so far this Divergent thing is turning out too bad. At first, I thought that if I made a mistake or said something out of place, they’d be able to tell straight away. At least, that doesn’t seem the case. Perhaps it’s because I haven’t done anything out of order yet.

“Eren?”

“Hm?” I ask, snapping out of it. “Oh, I must have zoned out again…”

“You seemed to do that plenty in class,” Connie jests.

“What do you mean? I didn’t even talk to you guys that much,” I reply.

“You don’t think we didn’t all see you sat next to the window? Ha! What was so fascinating that you didn’t even notice the bell ringing again?” Sasha says. “Hey, Mikasa? Are you gonna finish that bread roll?” she adds, about to take it off her plate. At this, Mikasa shoves it into her mouth and glares. Then she bursts into laughter.

It’s nice to see my sister smile.

“Well, we’re off to find some more food,” Connie announces. “See you guys.”

 

***

 

I guess I wasn’t happy in Candor; here I can be myself. I’ve learned to laugh in a day – is that normal? Instinctively, though, my mind turns to more pressing matters. “Armin. You need to learn how to act Dauntless if you want to survive.”

“What do you mean?” he queries.

“I mean, if you don’t want to end up factionless you’re going to have to try and fit in a little more.”

“Fit in? Mikasa, that’s easy for you to say!” Armin explodes. “We all know I’m not cut out for this. You don’t need to tell me twice.”

“Armin, I don’t mean it like-” I stop before I finish. He stands up and leaves without a word.

“Would you look at that,” Eren says, finally. “He didn’t even push his chair in.”

“You mean you couldn’t have said anything before he left?” I complain.

Eren looks away casually. “Couldn’t think of anything to say.”

Well done me, having a good time and then ruining it.

-


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> y'all  
> i'm back  
> i stopped writing this because i thought it was badly done and it would be difficult to finish but looking back, this is okay. So, here's chapter eight.

Chapter 8

 

When we return to training, we are lead to a new room – dark, dingy with a stone floor. The only variation in the room is the red circle painted on the floor. On the far side of the room, a chalkboard hangs on the wall with our names in two columns. Down the middle of the room hang battered black punching bags. I can’t imagine how long they’ve been there.

“As I said earlier,” Levi announces, “the second thing you will learn is to win a fight. Today, you will learn technique. Tomorrow you will begin fighting. So, if you don’t want to get hurt, shut your whiny mouths and listen up.”

Levi demonstrates different kicks, jabs and punches, most of which I don’t understand. In Abnegation, it is selfish to consider violence. This is something difficult to pick up when you’ve been programmed to block it out. It was the same with the guns.

I find myself slipping to the bottom of the pack as we progress; strength is difficult to muster and I can’t put power behind my blows. Levi stands at the side of the room, watching like a hawk. I try to avoid his icy gaze.

His flat voice shocks me. “You’re practically bones,” he says. “You’d do better if you focus on your elbows and knees.”

I must look pretty pathetic through his eyes, watching me fail again and again.

“For God’s sake,” he sighs, firmly planting his hands on my sides. At this, I jump. “Keep tension in your stomach. Remember to twist your body as you move.”

Get them off now. It goes against the way of life I’ve been immersed in my entire life. It’s just… creepy.

At least it gives me motivation as I attempt to land each hit. Finally, he moves on.

-

Our instructor dismisses us for dinner, and we can finally do what we like. Sasha approaches me, nearly bowling me over.

“Hey, Stiff! Krista!” she shouts. “Come on! You are in need of a makeover, and Mikasa and I will be the ones to treat you to it!”

***

Excuse me? “Um, actually-” I protest.

“C’mon Mikasa! I mean, your clothes aren’t exactly the height of fashion. And Krista, yours don’t even fit,” she says, waiting for us to decline. “Exactly! We’re all in need of some retail therapy.”

The route to the store is a short one, but it’s still tiring. Nobody but Sasha, the girl with infinite energy, has adjusted to the climbs yet. On our way in, one of the Dauntless borns surprises Krista.

“Ymir!” she exclaims, possibly delighted.

“Hey, Stiff. Uh…what’s your name? You didn’t tell me,” Ymir laughs.

“It’s Krista,” she answers.

“Look, Krista. Meet me for dinner at 7, okay?  We have some important adjustments you’re gonna need to make if you wanna fit in,” she explains.

“You mean shopping isn’t enough?” Krista asks.

“You’re gonna enjoy it, okay?” Then, she leaves the store.

Sasha is oblivious to the whole scene, in her own little heaven alongside clothes. She comes back, forcing items into each of our hands, then points to the dressing rooms. As I’m changing, I knock on the wall to Krista.

My voice is echoing. “Hey, Krista? What was that all about?”

“Oh, nothing,” comes her muffled reply.

What I’m wearing is awful. How I feel is even worse. Sasha and Krista, on the other hand, look fine.

“Ok,” Sasha says sheepishly. “I didn’t think a dress would look that good. _But_ I know it’d look good on me!”

“Wow, thanks,” I scoff. “You got anything that will look okay?”

Krista is sporting black leggings and a cropped hoodie, showing her midriff. She looks pretty unsure about the whole thing – probably an Abnegation thing.

“What?” I add. “Haven’t you ever been shopping?”

“No,” she answers. “Don’t you think it’s…weird to show this much skin?”

“You’ll be fine,” Sasha reassures. She’s wearing black capris, boots, and two camisoles: one unharmed, and the other shredded. Sasha pulls a few items from the rack, and passes them to me to try on, taking the dress out of my hands.

I look in the mirror: I have black sports shorts, a black t-shirt and a leather jacket, with combat boots to match. This is more my style, and I feel more Dauntless wearing this anyway. We grab a few more items before checking out. Nothing’s extortionately expensive here – I guess money isn’t a big issue.

“And now, for the finishing touches!” Sasha exclaims, brandishing a black pencil.

I never used to wear make-up, because it was a waste of time. Now I see myself with it on, I would if I could. My eyes used to be a dull grey, boring if you ask me. Now? Now they’re stormy; restless – just the way I like it.

And the best part? Well, I feel Dauntless.

***

Jean decides to tag along to the tattoo parlour – as if he couldn’t be more problematic. After grabbing a few clothes along the way, the four of us arrive. I doubt Armin will get one, but I’m not sure about Marco. Stiffs don’t tend to break habits easily.

He’s stood staring at one of the art panels, the largest one.

“What’cha thinking?” I ask.

“I want something…” he starts. “ I want something that means something to me. Something that I can take with me.”

“Like a reminder.”

“Yeah, like a reminder,” he agrees.

Then I see it – the same blue and white feathers that she had on her hand, except wings. A pair of wings, one navy blue and the other white. I know I want it. I can imagine them, spread across my back. The wings of freedom – because I’m free to be myself here. And one day, I know I’ll be free to be divergent. And the day after? We’ll be free to roam outside the fence.

I head up to the counter and…order?

“The wings, please?”

“The wings?” the clerk asks. “You’ll have them forever. And that’s a little out there for a transfer.”

“I know. That’s why I want it,” I reply.

She smirks. “If you must. Through that door – to Zoe. We’ll worry about payments afterwards.”

Zoe smiles as soon as she sees my face.

“Eric!” she exclaims.

“Eren.”

“Eren, you made it!” Zoe corrects herself. “How are things?”

“Well, I’m here, so... good? Things are, like, really cool here. But everyone also seems to be so uptight.”

“Is Levi getting to you? I’ll drop in a word. So, what ink are you getting?”

“The wings, outside.”

“The wings of freedom – I like it. The same vein as mine,” she pauses, waiting for a response I don’t have. “What, you don’t remember? The tattoo on my hand you asked about after your aptitude test.”

I catch on. “Right.”

“The wings of freedom,” she repeats. “You’ll see few people with this tattoo – most of the time I encourage people to get something different. They don’t know what it stands for.”

“Well, what does it mean?”

“You’ll learn soon enough… Oh, and by the way. Your aptitude test.” Not that again. “Be very careful if you get through to the next round of training. In fact, come and see me once it begins.”

“Okay. Can I actually, you know, get inked now?”

-

I stand with Marco, the inked area stinging under the dressing over my back. “Which one did you settle for?” I ask.

“An owls feather – right here,” he answers, gesturing down his sternum where presumably, the feather cuts his chest in two. But an owl’s feather? “Eren, you’re an open book. Owls symbolise wisdom, right? And I want to be wise. So if I keep it close to my heart, one day I will be.”

“Damn, Marco. That’s some hippie-ass shit right there. But good for you, man.”

Jean approaches us, a bandage across his wrist and lower forearm.

“Well, what’d you get?” Marco asks, beaming. Jean pulls out a slip of paper with the word tattooed onto his skin.

“Zugehörigkeitsgefühl”

“Wow, Jean, that word is longer than-” He’s clearly irritated.

“Eren, don’t say it.”

“-than your face.”

“You know, it means ‘sense of belonging’. As in, the polar opposite of that action right there.”

***

“Okay Stiff, first things first. A little birdy told me that you embraced being a stiff and now you have no bed.” Ymir hands me a sleeping bag and a pillow to drop off at the dormitory. “Here’s a bed. I found them in one of the airing cupboards back at home.”

“It’s Krista, by the way,” I correct her sheepishly.

“Yeah, alright then Stiff. Second of all, we’re going clubbing. You in?”

Clubbing? I’ve never heard of that. It sounds brutal – clubs are weapons you use to bludgeon people to death with. I know I want to fit in to Dauntless and all, but this seems way too extreme. Still, it’s better to clarify. “What’s clubbing?”

Ymir bursts into laughter, nearly falling to the floor. “Clubbing’s clubbing! You know, a nightclub?” I stare at her blankly. “A place where you go and dance to music and drink and it’s like, super fucking great. Jesus!”

-

I’ll admit it, clubbing is far more fun than it is brutal. Ymir’s older friends manage to sneak us in, and soon enough we we’re drinking – _drinking_ – and dancing. I remember Ymir’s hands around my waist and one thing leading to another and a kiss, but the drinks all went to my head. I doubt I actually had that many – then again, it’s not like I can remember. All I can remember is how damn fun it was.

At least I got a free bed out of it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the fights begin.

Chapter 9

 

“I think the stiff’s having a lay-in,” Eren jokes, gesturing over to her bunk, where golden strands of hair completely cover the head on the pillow, akin to the way in which a kid throws a ragdoll down. Somebody had a rough night.

“Jesus, really? It’s only the third day. What could she have been-” I pause, backtracking to last night. “-she must have gone out somewhere with the Dauntless crew.”

“What?!” Eren says in disbelief. “Why would they take a stiff? Why would they take the least dauntless person – the weakest, quietest, most boring person here – to some,” he hesitates, “… I don’t know, whatever it is the Dauntless do for fun.”

“I think she has a thing going with one of the Dauntless-borns. Probably giving her a good experience of Dauntless before she’s cut and factionless. Don’t let it get to you, Eren,” I reassure.

“Grim,” Armin adds, breaking his silence in the conversation. “I kind of feel bad for her, you know. I know I’m weak, but at least I know how to fight.”

There’s a long pause.

“Armin, no. No you don’t,” Eren says forcefully, almost worried, before bursting into laughter.

“I understand how you can take someone down, even if I can’t do it myself,” he clarifies. It’s a shame really. Understanding gets you nowhere fast here in Dauntless. Armin looks back over to Krista’s bed as we leave for food. “It’s already seven-twenty. Should I get her some breakfast?”

“Couldn’t hurt.”

Krista – I believe her name is – shows up on time at the doors to the training room with the remains of a bagel, downing a coffee. As we mill around outside, I make my way over to Armin to give him a little advice. After all, he came this far for us, and it’s our job to keep him here.

“Armin, about today… If you want some pointers for training–”I begin, unable to finish my sentence.

“I know, put your weight into your hits and use your elbows and knees as major contact points,” he cuts me off. I clearly must look stunned. “I’ve been brushing up on things that I can use to my advantage. Look, I have to work twice as hard as everyone else here.”

“I wouldn’t count the stiff,” I say.

“Stiff doesn’t matter. Stiff’ll probably drop out,” Armin says bluntly.

“About that – what happened this morning?”

“Well, I’m no doctor,” he giggles. A smile from Armin: unbelievable. “But I think she was suffering from a hangover. So I said that, right; she didn’t know what one was. I was like, ‘you know, waking up after you’ve had a ton of alcohol’, but she didn’t follow, because she’d ‘never had alcohol’.”

Hilarious, no doubt about it. “I think she went to some nightclub with a load of the Dauntless initiates and their older friends last night. Wait, do you think she drank a ton and didn’t know she was drinking?” I giggle.

I turn around to fill Eren in, but everyone else is already entering the training room. Armin and I are the last ones in.

“Today, you will learn how to win a fight,” Levi announces. “And you will learn the hard way.”

“The Dauntless way,” Mike corrects. “The rules are easy enough for even the dumbest people here to follow: you fight until someone hits the ground and doesn’t get up, or until we call it to a stop. You will be ranked on three things – who wins the fight; who the fight is against; and the ability shown in the fight. Levi, would you do the honours?”

Levi flips over the blackboard at the back of the room, from the side with our rankings to a grid of who we’re first up against.

Mikasa – Marco

Thomas – Sasha

Jean – Eren

Armin – Bertolt

Mina – Connie

“So one of you won’t be fighting today, since there’s an odd number of you. Be grateful.”

Jean and Eren: a match made in hell. It’s not even the first time they’ve fought, either. I guess they’ve got a good lot of experience. I’m against the not-so-stiff Stiff. The warm - hearted, friendly one. And, to top it all off, we’re up first.

“Marco?”

“Yeah?”

“I am so fucking sorry,” I apologise in advance. Who knows – he could be far superior to me and I could be down in one hit, but I highly doubt it. I just feel like I have an edge against everyone here, and I’m not sure why. Perhaps it’s the adrenaline boosting my confidence.

I tense. Rest onto my back leg. Clench my fists and bring them up to my face. Tuck in my elbows.

Marco is like a mirror.

Deep breaths. I can hear the rhythmic drumming of my heart in my ears. Everything – everyone – is silent with apprehension. Silence. Silence. Silence. Stillness.

A sharp jab suddenly knocks the air out of my lungs; I lose my footing and stagger backwards to receive another blow to the collarbone, pain crackling through my chest and down my arm like electricity.

“Alright, Stiff, so that how we’re going to play it,” I mumble, choking on air trying to catch my breath. I regain stance, eyes darting up and down Marco to find a weak spot. Smirking, I stare straight at him, holding eye contact for a few seconds before giving a low sweep to the leg to ruin his balance. I swing my body sideways to deliver a punch to the jaw, almost spiralling into a full pirouette. For me, this is just like ballet – dance, in Candor, is seen as a valid form of self-expression, as well as entertainment. And self-expression is truth (art, however, was seen as a means of distorting a meaning, which I don’t really understand). It was one of my only hobbies up until the age of fifteen.

I can use my learned agility to fight; Marco may be strong, but he is slow. I deal another few hits before missing – he’s beginning to speed up and see through my “strategy”. I need him to try and strike me.

“I really, really don’t want to do this to you, Mikasa,” he says softly, all the while remaining in a defensive position. Usually, I’d feel pity for him. Not today.

 I see my opportunity; I can encourage him. I smile, exhaling. “Try me!” I shout, my voice strained from the sheer volume of oxygen I’ve inhaled. It comes out almost as a tortured croak. I edge around him, leaving my body exposed for him to deal a sluggish strike. Reflexively, I duck and spring back up for my knee to connect with his chin. Though Marco stumbles, he is determined not to fall and give me that power. Again, he gives a slow jab to the nose, times perfectly to catch my off guard.

Something warm and wet runs over my lips and down my chin, dripping on the floor a rich and vivid scarlet. Blood. I wipe the back of my hand across my face, but I can still feel the waterfall cascading down my face and onto the floor. No need to lose nerve now. This is my fight, and if it’s mine, I’m going to win it.

He doesn’t even see it coming. A string of punches to the gut, and then I slam him backwards, sending him reeling towards the ground. At least his chest is still rising and falling.

“As I said before, I am so fucking sorry.”

“It’s…it’s fine,” Marco breathes.

***

I won’t be able to hold out like Marco did. At least he had a fair shot at victory. That was absolutely brutal.

I thought with enough determination to change, I’d be able to make it here. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I’m really not cut out for this. I’m weak as weak gets, and I’m pretty sure people are betting on how long I’ll last. I have _heard_ people saying that I’ll not make it through stage one or they’ll find me gone tomorrow. Maybe they will. But I came here to escape and I’d rather be here, with all these awful, negative people, than with awful, negative people in Abnegation. Mikasa is situated in the corner with a blood-soaked white towel at her feet – alone – and Marco has been instructed to walk to the infirmary – _alone._

Sasha and Thomas’s fight, though clumsy, is relatively fast and painless. Sasha is the victor; Thomas unconscious. Jean and Eren’s is the polar opposite.

“Just like old times, Jaeger,” Jean says proudly.

“Just like old times, Kirschtein,” Eren replies.

Jean extends his arm – presumably for a handshake – Eren declines, slapping his hand away and taking stance. He lurches forward, rapidly jabbing Jean in the stomach, who in turn shifts around to dodge and swings his fist towards Eren’s head. This continues for a good five minutes before they pick up the pace and the power. Neither of them falls, but I myself can feel the immense pain. There are blood splatters in many places on the floor, now a canvas, and both of them are dripping with sweat. Each time one gets hit, it just motivates them further.

I glance at the clock: we’re now coming up to ten minutes. If I’d have endured it to this point, I would be exhausted yet both Eren and Jean have fighting spirit to spare. Jean is a lot quicker and agile and gets more hits in in a short space of time before dodging; Eren’s are fuelled with rage and the impact of his power is visible, and he is better at taking damage as well as dealing it. You can see they have well developed styles and strategies. I guess in other factions, violence actually occurs outside the home.

Another five minutes and it is called to a stop – not because anyone was knocked out, but because it was bound to end in a stalemate anyway. The pair, who are now somewhat worn out, are both given a seat alongside Mikasa.

“Everybody take five,” Levi shouts. At this point, Mike leaves the room, probably to do whatever it is that leaders have to do.

***

The instructors allow us a break, as If I’m not already in the middle of one. Armin’s up next, against some who is literally a foot taller than him. A giant. He won’t last a minute. I’d fight him for him, if it weren’t for the fact that I’ve just gone for a solid fifteen minutes without a break against Jean. And I didn’t even win! Stalemate my ass; I had the advantage. One more blow would’ve done it.

I seek him out, concerned for Armin.

“Hey, man,” I begin. He turns around, somewhat startled – the tell-tale signs being the beads of sweat beginning to form on his temples. “Go easy on Armin, yeah? He won’t last too long. You could probably pull a one-hit KO on him if you wanted. Y’know, do it fast like ripping a bandage off. Like putting a pet down.”

“Hm?” he mumbles flatly.

“Yeah, I’m rambling. There’s no point in waiting for Armin to strike first. Just take him out as quickly as you can, okay?”

“Sure,” he agrees amicably.

 

“It’s the only positive news I have!” I explain to Armin.

“Positive? Positive?! You told my opponent I was so weak I’d be out like a light in one hit!” he exclaims, voice wavering. Armin’s eyes dart around the room, and I can feel him shaking slightly.

“You will! I promise, you won’t even feel it,” I reassure.

“Armin!” Mikasa interjects. “You look like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Calm down.”

“It’s alright for you!” he shrieks. “You’re not about to be one-hitted without even being able to defend yourself by some titan twice your size! You’re absolutely fine, Mikasa. You took out one of the best fighters in our group without even hesitating. _You are absolutely fine!_  And you, Eren, don’t even get me started. So you draw in your first match and you just assume I don’t even need a _chance_ to at least _try_ and defend myself in the ring? Why do you people think I came here? To get cut?”

What follows is worse than getting one-hitted. Eren may not have been right in the way he went about ‘solving’ things, but he was right in that it’s better to be out in the first minute. Bertolt waits for his prey to make a move, like a cat, before toying with it for eons. Armin strikes him where he can actually hit – between the ribs – only for Bertolt to twist his arm round to force him backwards, and then to fall at a great sweep to the ankles. At this, the monster grabs him by the shirt to begin jabbing him in the nose; he does it lightly, as so not to take him out too quickly and give him time to wriggle free (Armin succeeds at this). By this time, Armin’s face is splattered with blood and I can imagine how difficult it is to see straight with the number of times he’s been hit, never mind stand up. Soon enough, Bertolt delivers a blow that knocks Armin to the ground. He could’ve left it there. In fact, he could’ve left it a long time ago. Instead, he kicks him in the jaw.

And again.

And again.

And again.

It’s painful to watch, never mind experience. But finally, Bertolt gives it a break, and Armin a breather – or a chance to pass out. I request to take him to the infirmary; Mikasa accompanies me to help carry his body.

“When I get my hands on him…” she mutters through gritted teeth. “When I fucking get my hands on him…”

“I want to give him a taste of his own medicine,” I agree. “He needs to fucking understand what he put Armin through. I hope I get him tomorrow. I really, fucking hope-”

“Eren?” We hear a miniscule squeak from Armin.

“Armin, go back to sleep,” Mikasa tells him.

“What happened?” he continues.

“Armin, go back to sleep,” I repeat.

“Okay…” he mumbles drowsily.

***

Bertolt receives no flak from what he just did to Armin. And he deserved a lot. What, so nobody’s going to stand up to him because he’s strong? I thought this was the faction of bravery. I guess we haven’t gotten that far yet.

But at some point, I’ll bring it up. And him down.

Last up are Connie and Mina. From the start I can see where this is heading: Connie has the natural advantage of aggression over Mina, and will therefore use that advantage and win. However, something’s…off. Connie could easily take the girl out, and even though it looks like he is trying to, she perseveres and hit’s back. He’s not concentrating. I see his friend Jean move closer to the edge of the circle at the point where Mina slams her fist – quite weakly – into his stomach. Jean is visibly agitated; I too would be frustrated knowing that sans so many mistakes this would be over by now.

“Agh, son of a bitch!” he says under his breath.

Jean’s Candor roots take hold of him. “Connie, you stupid fuck! You could have dodged that!”

At first, the once-amity boy ignores him, continuing to catch Mina at her sides before she dodges and counters, at his weak spot for the second time.

“Connie!” Jean shouts again, exasperated.

This time he replies. “No no no no te vas pa' la mierda. Te vas pa' la mierda. ¡Yo no voy pa' allá! ¡Tú no viste la velociodad de ese hijueputa! ¡Yo no voy pa' allá! ¡No no no no no!” In a fit of rage, he goes for her abdomen, missing once again.

_(No, no, no, no, you can go and fuck yourself. Go fuck yourself. I’m not even gonna go there. You didn’t see the speed of that son of a bitch. I’m not going there, no, no, no, no, no!)_

“You had a clear shot at the abdomen, Connie, what the fuck?”

He takes her by the collar and whacks her in the jaw, rather powerfully. “¡¿Tú estás loco?! ¡¡Por un momento era que yo queria irme pa’ allá, pero no, te vas pa' la mierda!!” _(Are you crazy?! For a moment I wanted to go there, but no, go fuck yourself!)_ The funniest part is that even though he’s talking to Jean, all of this is screamed in Mina’s face. The angrier he gets, the more intimidating he becomes, although I doubt that’s the reason Jean’s aggravating Connie.

“Tone it down, this is a fight, not a soap opera,” Levi orders.

Eager to get the last word in, Jean replies, “Connie, you stupid bean burrito, do not complain when you have TWO fists! You have two! Fucking hit your opponent!”

“¡¡Mi Mami, mi mami me dijo que no me viniera aquí y ahora yo estoy aquí metio' por culpa tuya!! ¡Miras a lo que me he involucrado!”

_(Mami told me not to come here and now I’m here because of you! Look at what I got involved in!)_

“No goddamnit Connie, none of this is my fucking fault! At no point did I come to you in your sleep like some fucking angel and go "Connie, your destiny is with dauntless," no Connie, no I didn't! You came to Dauntless because you could fucking fight! Why don’t you fucking show us that you can fight instead of beating around the fucking bush like a weakling! Do you _want_ to be cut? Because at the minute, you are going to be cut!” Jean screams.

I believe that that’s the straw that broke the camel’s back, because, at this point, Connie is bursting with vexation. He becomes more strategic in his fighting style – waiting for Mina to strike before using the little power she has against her; dodging and putting the momentum into his next punch.

“Shut the fuck up!” Levi roars. I never realised that such a loud sound could come from such a small man. It’s not too long until Mina is on the floor. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t take pleasure in the misfortune and agony of others, but that was the most entertaining fight I’ve watched today.

“You showed some promise, I have to admit,” Levi says at the end of the match as he writes up the results. “Maybe if you’d have been able to shut your mouth, I would make an effort to remember your use of technique. However, that is not the case. Connie, you stay put in the circle. Jean, back in with him.”

“Another fight? Levi– Sir, I haven’t recovered and neither has Connie,” Jean protests.

“Did I fucking stutter?” Levi replies coldly.

“Jean, man. We’ve been through high school together,” Connie says once Levi is too far away to hear. “I know you; you know me. Go easy on me man.”

 “I’ll try,” Jean says.

Connie passes out after just a few hits. Honestly, by now he’s nearly rivalling Jean and Eren’s time.

If I have learned one thing today, it’s that I’m going to have to step up my game. Dare I say it, but everybody here is stronger than I am. I’m not going to let that get me cut.                                                                                                

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, Spanish/Latino Connie is a reference to tomandre's A Slap On Titan on YouTube. The majority of the Spanish dialogue and Jean's replies are from the short titled "Connie's Spanish Rant". Honestly, I found the series hilarious. Very dark, but hilarious, I must say.


	10. Sorry.

I think it's time to say goodbye to this fanfiction.

I had plans for the plot and what would happen but I have no motivation and I don't think it's worth it, to be honest. I'm sorry if you wanted to see this story pan out. It isn't going to happen. I really don't think I'll ever finish this.

If you want to reach me, you can find me on:

tumblr: ikeacats-a03

instagram: ikeacats

 

It was a good run, I guess?

 

Sincerely, Elle


	11. yo yo yo spoilers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> did you wanna know what happens  
> well  
> now if you read this you will  
> know what happens  
> actually i just summarised a good ten pages of badly done notes and made sense of some kind of planned plot

okay right what would've happened i think (we're talking 95% accuracy here because I can't make sense of my own notes)

if you wanna write your own endings or whatever you can use this or take it in a different direction, both are cool - let me know if you do!! I wanna read that!!

also

don't get your hopes up because I definitely will not be coming back to this because it takes so much work to make good and I have very little time to write

so if you're really that curious

let's go

  * basically they do some more fighty tighties and mikasa gets really heckin angery and beats bertolt to shit in the same way that armin got beaten to shit because REVENGE
  * thomas and mina get cut because side characters
  * also we have those bonding moments in capture the flag
  * then in stage two eren being divergent is pretty good but he goes to see hange and she's all "you'll be killed if they find out"
  * krista and marco do pretty well. like marco does really well he's in first and bertolt is at the bottom of the pack oh dear conflict
  * bertolt basically shanks marco and he has to leave otherwise he'll kill him and then says marco jumped off the chasm and lies
  * but whoopsie!! krista saw all of this!! (if you want to know how this like,,, happened without things going very wrong,,, hmu on tumblr ikeacats-ao3)
  * jean is mentally screwed up because of this
  * there is a funeral and also then krista basically says "gtfo otherwise everyone knows and they'll come after you so you could live and be factionless or die and be factionless which would you prefer" idk man
  * yumikuri yumikuri yumikuri + reiner just being a good all round okay dude for once
  * mikasa is a bitch as usual and eren is divergent as usual
  * shit happens but i've looked and idk what exactly goes on tbh the notes are across like four documents bc im organised
  * and then woo!! now we are dauntless!!!
  * i think the problem is that there isn't really an ending



so it's very linear but to be honest the source material is too, and although there's conflict within the group there's no overall buildup to a big fight which is what needs to happen. yes there are themes and motifs but they never come to foreshadow anything because there is a happy ending if anything the biggest conflict happens when marco disappears and that would be like halfway trough the story

but yeah any questions hmu on tumblr

thank you for following this fic; your feedback and support has help me as a writer immensely!

sincerely

elle


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